


Too Much to Swallow

by theghostsofeurope (baronvonehren)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-03
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 13:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baronvonehren/pseuds/theghostsofeurope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Jim makes Sebastian wonder if it's worth it at all to work with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I don't often think about it because frankly, it's a bit too much to swallow. It's unpleasant, moments like that. The time I broke my nose--a bit of circumstance. I lost sight of a target and he got the drop on me. I had to neutralize him with my hands and well, he battered me a bit.

When I opened the car door, eyes streaming from a broken nose, Jim didn't bother too look up from his book. I sat, blood dripping down my face and chin, down onto my button down and jacket. My breathing was ragged, easily audible. He wasn't concerned or he was ignoring me, or both. I screwed up my eyes and held the bridge, letting out a small whimper, and then I looked into the sun visor mirror. It was bad. Crooked now.

My eyes flickered to Jim. He seemed entirely engrossed in his book until his phone rang and he answered it, marking the page of his book with his pointer finger and gesturing with the other hand as he spoke. Something about Irkutsk and stealth aircraft designs.

My nose was in bad, bad shape. I squeezed it experimentally, moaning softly. Jim responded by hushing me through his teeth and shooting me a glare that actually hurt. I was having trouble breathing, what with the flow of blood, the pain, and the deviated septum.

Jim finally finished his phone call and hung up, sighing dramatically. "Aren't you supposed to be driving us back to the hotel?" He didn't ask so much as demand.

I nearly choked. "Drive?" I threw up my hands indignantly, "oh yeah,  'suppose I'm going to drive with a concussion and a broken nose." My voice came out like I had a plugged nose and I hit the steering wheel with my palm in frustration.

He hummed his response, licking a finger and opening his book back to his marked page. His voice was dangerously quiet. "Yes."

I stared off, gritting my teeth. The action made my sinuses hurt. Everything at this point made my sinuses hurt. My eyes were starting to water again. "Oh yes, great idea. Nevermind that I'm fucking bleeding out through my face or that I could lose consciousness at the wheel. Did I mention that I should probably go to a hospital?" I flipped the visor up viciously and moved to get out of the car.

Jim's hand shot out and suddenly gripped my chin, catching me by surprise and wrenching me downward until we were staring, eye to eye. "Get out of the car and I will cut off your nose." His eyes were empty and unreadible. That nervous bit of me knew he wasn't joking. My breaths were shallow, in and out through the mouth, and I knew he could feel them quicken when he said that. "You're going to drive us back to the hotel and you're going to suffer every minute of it."

I let out a small sound of disapproval but his face didn't soften. "You've brought this upon yourself, love." Again, the unspoke 'why' hung heavy between us. But this time, Jim indulged me. "You've disappointed me," he leg go of my jaw, eyes flickering from my face to my chest, "what good are you when you can't kill a man without getting mangled, let alone drive a car?"

I watched him for a moment, throat becoming thick. "So that's all that matters then." I sniffled, coughing when the mucus and blood gathered in the back of my throat. I paused to roll down the window and spit. I put both hands on the wheel and we sat in silence until I started the car. "You're a bastard."

Jim slouched down in his seat again, putting his legs up on the dash and crossing his feet at the ankle. He didn't respond immediately. He was too busy looking for where he last left off. "You're an idiot, but I still keep you around."


	2. Chapter 2

Naturally, my nose hurt the entire drive back to the hotel. It did, however, stop bleeding. I was beginning to get dizzy. I nervously covered my nose with my hand as we entered the lobby and took the elevator to the fourth floor. Jim hadn't bothered to spare me a single look. He stared at the numbers as the elevator ascended. I followed him, footsteps barely muffled by the thin carpet, as he led us to our room and unlocked the door.

I immediately made my way to the bathroom, shucking off my jacket, tie, and button down. I closed the door. I stripped off my pants and sat for a moment on the edge of the tub, cradling my aching head. After a while I heard a soft knock at the door. "Seb."

I looked up quickly enough that I nearly fainted. I steadied myself against the wall. "No, go away. I'm taking a piss."

"No you're not." I held my breath, listening. He didn't move from his spot just outside the door. "Come on, let me in."

"I'm in nothin'." I knew that wouldn't deter him in the least.

Blearily, I realized that if I didn't let him in, he'd just pick his way in or something. Use the credit card trick, knock down the door, or pull the fire alarm--if Jim wanted something he was going to get it. I stumbled towards the door, clinging to the handle, and popped the lock.

I let Jim into the bathroom, watching him with narrowed eyes, and closed the door behind him. "Here to call me an idiot a few more times?" I gripped the vanity sink until my knuckles were white and turned on the tap with my other hand, watching him in the mirror. I was already starting to bruise, my face swelling and dark rings appearing around my eyes.

The hot water was good. The steam that started to fill the room, slowly but surely, would help with my sinuses. I could already start feeling it all loosening up in there. I'd start bleeding again soon. The fog was starting to clear in my head.

Jim sat down on the edge of the tub, cupping his chin and gesturing at the pile of fabric on the bathroom floor. "You've cost me quite a bit of money so far." His face bounced as his jaw worked the words out. "I feed you, I house you, I clothe you."

I grabbed the roll of toilet paper from the top of the commode (one of us hadn't refilled it when it ran out). "Jus' a minute," I told him, clearing my throat and spitting down the sink. I wrapped my hand in toilet paper and blew my nose, hard enough to dislodge the blood coagulating there.

Costs. When I became too much, Jim would just cut his losses. "Now's definitely not the time to tell me that you don't cover doctor's visits." I finished blowing my nose and plugged the drain. Tears were starting to run down my face again. "Wait a sec'."

The skin was torn up at the top, making it look like my nose had been almost cut off. It wasn't too badly twisted, just knocked to the side far enough that I couldn't get any airflow out of the right side and what little I could was speckled with blood and mucus.

I tilted my head back and pinched my nose, literally feeling it grind in my head as the insides shifted around. "God fuck!" I balled up my other hand and fought the urge to punch out the mirror, opting for biting down on it instead. It took me a moment, wriggling my nose around just hard enough to shift it back into place. Blood flooded down as I pushed it back into place. 

When I looked up in the mirror to check if my nose was straight (it wasn't), Jim  was gone. In my pain I hadn't noticed he even left. Panic struck me quickly until I listened, his footsteps moving just outside. Jim came back to the bathroom, barefooted and slackened tie. He handed me a roll of tape.

I furrowed my brow as he flipped down the toilet lid and sat down, watching me closely. "You're mad at me." He hummed in response and I ran my fingers down my nose carefully. "Frustrated."

"Ooh, looks like you're good at seeing the obvious. I always knew you were smart."

I ignored his jabs and started to wash off. The now lukewarm water turned pink, like processed pork, and I'm not sure if it was Jim's eyes or the temperature that made the hairs stand on my neck and arms.

 "You're not going to let me go to a hospital, are you?" I started to rip up the box on the bar of soap. "There's only so much I can do, you know? It's going to start swelling and itching, and I'll probably knock it out of place and have to re-set it. I'm going to have two black eyes. Not to mention I hit my head."

I fashioned the torn box into a make-shift nose splint of a sort and taped it to my face, wincing and making a small sound of pain. Jim tapped his feet against the cheap linoleum floor. "Yes, well I'm sure you'll look better with a broken nose anyway."

I couldn't help but laugh, my stomach feeling like it was full of butterflies or pit vipers. It's a bit hard to tell the difference, isn't it? "Charming," I smiled, cheekily, glad that I wasn't missing any teeth. "I get it, I get it. No fucking around, stop fucking up. Now get out, I'm nearly naked."


End file.
